


Ebb and Flow

by Nyresnuger



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, Porn with limited plot, Post-Recall, Sharing a Bed, initial miscommunications, staying together, whopsie dopsie looks like you have to stay together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23325160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyresnuger/pseuds/Nyresnuger
Summary: They can’t keep dancing around this. This thing they’ve been doing almost since the day Hanzo stepped a foot on base. At least since Genji saw them spar one day and cried an exasperated‘No! Jesse McCree you will not! Not with my brother’then left them both confused and a little too close on the mats.Eventually, they must crash together - Jesse hadn't expected it being like this
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 19
Kudos: 240





	Ebb and Flow

**Author's Note:**

> This was started as a sweet, short little thing. Then it grew and got increasingly more horny … Hope you enjoy!
> 
> come talk to me on my tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nyresnuger

The dropship lands almost without a sound. The debriefing passes in a blur, Jesse pulls his hat down as far as is socially acceptable, hums and nods noncommittally through Winston’s quick run down of everything that’s happened in the last 6 hours.

The way home was quiet, just long enough for the initial adrenaline rush to die down, simmer into something bone deep and fluttering, vibrating under his skin. He’s picked minute specks of dust out of his left hand the entire plane ride, chewed insistently on his lower lip and dreamt of cigarette or a shower.

The same tired jitteriness is seeping through the other agents. Genji is stoic as always, but bounces his left leg impertinently through all of the debriefing, disappears without a trace as soon as he’s dismissed – Lena musters the last energy and timeskips into the kitchen to make tea and pass out on the couch: a goal she loudly and matter-of-factly announces to all of them.

Jesses first though is to get to a shower and then a bed as fast as humanely possible.

His plan is spoiled the moment he turns into the old wing 5 of the Gibraltar base, where most of the living quarters are situated these days.

Everything is chaos.

He turns the corner and nearly collides with Genji, sprinting back the way he came. “The break room is mine!” he yells in passing.

Jesse gets to stand there confused for half a second before he notices the inch-deep water covering pretty much all of the floor. Hanzo is standing outside his room across the hall, looking disheveled and exasperated. It makes Jesse’s chest go slightly soft to see him, even this can’t make the dumb bundle of feelings he’s been collecting over the last couple of months go away.

Their eyes meet and there’s a quick little comradely smile between them before Jesse refocuses onto the pool on the floor.

“What the fuck,” he gestures mildly.

“McCree,” Athena’s voice rings out, “there’s been and … accident with he piping in wing five.” She manages to sound slightly sorry even through the old speakers.

“Yeah, I believe you,” he laughs without humor.

It’s a huge compliment to Winston’s AI abilities that he can practically hear her trying to think of a proper response to that.

He sighs deeply, looks up at Hanzo and throws out his arms. “Is there anywhere we can be? I need to rest, Athena?”

The direct request is easier on her, and she pipes up. There’s a slight mechanical beeping as she scans base for empty rooms.

“It appears agent Shimada,” a quick little pause as her systems struggles with their being two of those now, “the other one – it appears he’s taken residence in the last open common room with sleeping facilities,” she pauses again, like she’s slightly afraid to make this last suggestion: “but there’s the spare room in wing 6 captain Amari used last time she was here. If you’re not opposed to sharing, I can unlock it from here?”

McCrees eyebrows lift involuntarily. It sounds fine to him, he can sleep anywhere, but he’s not sure stoic, dignified Hanzo will accept. Still, he’s either foolhardy or tired enough to try his luck.

“You heard the lady,” he drawls at Hanzo, tries to get it sound like a challenge. “Race me?”

Hanzo stares him down. He’s tough to read, but Jesse senses a slight smile around his lips, a slow consideration in his dark eyes. He hums noncommittally.

For a second Jesse’s reminded of every cheesy shoot off he’s had with Ashe when they were young and dumb in the midday sun, doped up on dumb cowboy movies and dreams to big to be contained in their gritty reality.

A locked and readied stillstand followed by either defeat or euphoria.

They can’t keep dancing around this. This thing they’ve been doing almost since the day Hanzo stepped a foot on base. At least since Genji saw them spar one day and cried an exasperated ‘ _No! Jesse McCree you will not! Not with my brother_ ’ then left them both confused and a little too close on the mats.

If Genji’s secretly slightly psychic or if the comment started something is unclear, but Jesse can’t deny there’s something there. In all the little teasing touches Hanzo – Hanzo, who normally gives everyone on base a wide berth and keeps to himself – graces him with, in all the horrible flirting remarks Jesse throws to everyone around him, but actually means when they’re directed at Hanzo.

In the purposeful and almost too honest ways their eyes meet at debriefing meetings or over breakfast sometimes. Jesse’s seen it glint in Hanzo’s dark eyes. This shared, quiet understanding.

Like there’s something hidden in Jesse’s chest Hanzo has uncovered and studied and _understood_ just by looking at him.

It’s here again now, Hanzo’s eyes locked on him with a deadly focus that feels both like way too much and not nearly enough. 

“Okay,” he answers finally. “But I’m not racing you, McCree.”

\---

The door closes behind them with a soft click and the tension is thick enough to cut.

He studies Hanzo’s broad back, notices how he’s in his casual clothing, sweatpants and a royal blue t-shirt with some sort of intricate dragon design stitched onto the shoulders in straw colored thread. He doesn’t let himself finish the train of thought, but he thinks it looks awfully close to an outfit you could sleep in.

“Alright,” he murmurs into the heavy silence at exactly the same time Hanzo starts saying “the shower is in there if you want.”

They lock eyes and a bit of the tension melt away. Jesse wants to hit himself. The thing, whatever it is smoldering in the empty spaces between them, is good. Getting to know Hanzo and sometimes catch his eyes when they’re black and open and soft – it’s all really, really good. There’s no need for a lingering awkward tension.

“A shower would be nice,” he breathes, the unease instantly lifts. Hanzo nods his head slowly.

Jesse must be a lot more tired than he thought, cause it’s only now he realizes Hanzo’s hair isn’t in the usual high ponytail and instead just loosely bundled together at the nape of his neck. He’s a lot softer than usually like this, especially when he smiles slightly and the lines by his eyes grow subtly more prominent.

Jesse ducks out of the room to quickly collect the emergency set of clothes from the common room. Lena shouts her condolences from the couch – Athena has apparently filled her in - and is already snoring softly when Jesse heads back to the small room.

He stands under the water, turns the pressure up till it’s nearly painful against his skin and lets it carry away the last traces of frenzied energy and lingering fear after the mission. Instead, the image of Hanzo, soft and casual in the mild dark, waiting just on the other side of the door, crystalizes in his mind.

The fondness that swells in his chest isn’t new. It has accompanied Hanzo whenever he appears in Jesses mind for a long time, so long the two feel almost interconnected and the same.

When he emerges from the shower in a new t-shirt and jeans, Hanzo is standing by the window. His hair is fully loose now, flowing over his shoulders like a waterfall of shiny night. He turns slowly to face him.

“So, this is a situation, huh?” Jesse asks. He meant for it to have a joking, light edge. Instead it sounds low and breathy.

Hanzo tilts his head.

“It’s okay, Jesse.”

It’s only something he’s started doing recently; calling him by his first name when they’re alone. It makes something in Jesse’s chest both flutter and ache. There’s an intimacy there that feels both unearned and utterly correct – he dares not entertain the idea it’s because it reminds him of the few times he caught Jack calling Reyes ‘ _Gabe_ ’ in the quieter, more private moments.

Hanzo breaks the eye contact, turns slightly towards the lone bed. The soft moonlight is falling sharply over him, illuminating him in harsh bands along the edges of him. He’s breathtaking.

Jesse takes a hesitant step closer, Hanzo looks up at him with soft eyes. They’re dark enough for the pupil and iris to blend together, a patch of black night, peaceful and stunning.

The quiet stretches between them. Heavy with intent and meaning neither of them dare address directly. Jesse’s chest is rising quicker than usually, Hanzo’s head is tilted slightly to one side – inquisitive and alert.

Jesse gets the feeling this is where he could do something. Anything, and nothing would ever be the same again. The small hairs on his back are standing, anticipation hangs heavy, there’s words – soft and genuine words – lying in wait on his tongue.

There’s a slight pull in Hanzo’s body language, a hesitant surge forward. His mouth opens slightly and Jesse gets the terrifying thought he’s about to ask him to leave.

“I- I’ll go find something to sleep on. I think I saw a spare mattress in the closet?” He blurts, then let’s his gaze fall.

He thinks he spots a disappointed pull by Hanzos mouth.

“Wait a second,” his eyes shoot back to Hanzo when he speaks. And this time he notices the slight jitteriness to him. He’s so much in control of his body it’s almost imperceptible, but his voice carried just enough of a startled edge that Jesse can’t ignore it. He’s working his teeth over the inside of his cheek, a thumb digging into his palm.

“What?” he takes a step closer to him. Sees how Hanzo breathes slow to steady himself, then meets his eyes. Jesse readies to be told to leave, this was way too much for perfect, private Hanzo anyway and he’d never want to make him uncomfortable or-

“You’re okay, right? With this-“ he gestures vaguely around him. Jesse’s about to assure him that yeah, he’ll just go grab that mattress real quick, he’s used to a lot worse, “with me, here?”

Every word dies on Jesse’s tongue. His eyebrows disappear up into his still damp hair and Hanzo must read his expression as shocked in a bad way, for his shoulders slump slightly.

“I can find somewhere else to be, I should not have agreed to breach your privacy like this,” his right hand closes and he gives a stiff little bow. He takes one step forward, clearly angling to pass by Jesse to the door.

“Woah, hey now!” his first impulse is to grab him by the arm, but he draws his hand back at the last second, unsure how to instigate touch. Hanzo stops though, looks at him with shame and confusion swirling in his eyes.

“What’s got you saying that? Woah, Hanzo, it’s not a problem,” he raises both palms, as nonthreatening as possible, “rather you than Reinhardt or Genji, ya’know?” he tries, small lopsided smile added to soften the atmosphere.

Hanzo turns to face him more directly, breathes deeply. His face wrinkles for a second, like he’s unsure what to do next.

“It’s not too much?” he asks after a beat. His eyes are intense and focused when he looks back up at Jesse.

“What is?”

“This!” he throws his arms out slightly, then gestures vaguely between them.

Jesse is terrifying close to simply repeating himself. Instead, he feels his face wrinkle up slightly as he sorts through his thoughts.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with this Hanzo?”

Hanzos face flashes through about ten expressions in the span of a second. So quick they blur together, and Jesse has a hard time decoding even one. Sadness? Hope? Shame? None seem fully adequate. Hanzo regains control of his face, at least he wills his posture into something even more straight and proud. He meets Jesses eyes with brute determination.

“I thought this might pose an awkward situation for you and I did not mean to impose myself onto you.” He stands like he’s cut from marble; stark and unmoving.

“You’re not answering the question.

"There’s a flash of something almost angry in Hanzo’s entire body, in how his jaw clenches and his eyes flare. Jesse can sense the bewildered pride simmering in him and it’s both scary and strangely enticing.

“Hanzo, I’m serious. I don’t mind being here,” he starts, trying to ease the tension in the room, then adds, only a tad hesitant, “with you, I do not mind it one bit.”  
Hanzo’s face falls.

“Do no mock me, Jesse.” It’s biting and sharp.

“I’m not!” then softer, “I’m not, I swear.”

Hanzo stares him down for a long second. Then lets his gaze fall with a quiet huff.

“We can’t keep doing this. Not if you’re not truly interested,” he mumbles the first part, the second comes with much more conviction.

A short bark of laughter escape Jesse before he can get it under control. Hanzo looks up at him, confusion burning in his gaze. Jesse really wants to explain, fix this utterly silly little situation now that he understands, but the floodgates are open and there’s no stopping the shocked laughter bubbling out of him.

“You,” he takes a few more deep breathes, “you think I don’t want this? Really?”

Hanzo nods, chin raised impossibly high to regain some of that poised control.

“Hanzo, dear, how could you think that?”

He huffs noncommittally as the only response, but Jesse doesn’t miss the slight, relieved smile creeping onto his face.

“I thought you were just being friendly,” he breathes at last and Jesse can’t help the outright grin spreading over his face. This is not how he imagined this conversation going, not at all. But he must admit there’s something charming and clumsy and very _them_ about it.

He steps a little closer to Hanzo, wants to close the gap and feel him, but afraid of accidentally shattering this honest little moment of catharsis between them.

“I didn’t want to come onto you too strong,” he admits at last, slightly sheepish “but I am absolutely coming onto you. Have since day one, pretty much.”

One of Hanzo’s prim eyebrows shoot up, suddenly he regains every last bit of stern superiority, even has the audacity to throw in a bit of a teasing edge.

“Oh, you are?”

Jesses face splits in a toothy grin. Endless fondness – and a sharp rush of relief that this is just some silly miscommunication – swirls just behind his ribs.

“Yeah I am, thought it was pretty damn obvious too.”

Hanzo chuckles, low and raspy - barely more than a relieved rush of air - and its damn near the most precious thing Jesse’s ever seen. “I thought I had … misjudged the situation.

”Jesse smiles softly, shakes his head slowly. “You’re doing good, honey.”

Hanzo’s eyes snap up to meet his at the name, bright and attentive. His mouth is slightly agape, and the moonlight is streaming pale blue and soft over his strong features. Jesse swallows, the world is standing still and yet vibrating slightly. The anticipation is thick and heady between them.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes at last and Hanzo is already slinging a strong arm around his neck.

“God yes.”

They practically fall into one another. A tad uncoordinated, late night tiredness and enthusiasm burning from them both.

Jesse is humming insistently against his mouth, hands fluttering uselessly by his sides until Hanzo grabs them and places them firmly on his hips with a raspy little laugh against his mouth.

Everything seems _right_. They fit together in a clumsy, eager way, noses bumping and teeth clacking and yet it’s still just _right_. Hanzo bites down on his lip and he can’t hold back an undignified little gasp, tighten his fingers in Hanzo’s shirt on instinct.

He wants to keep kissing him for as long as he’d let him. Get pulled into the ebb and flow of how their bodies move together; hands explorative and almost shy.

Instead he pulls back and just looks at him for a moment. The prettiest blush is spreading over his cheeks, his mouth slightly open. He’s captivating and breathtaking and Jesse honestly can’t think of a single positive adjective that wouldn’t fit him right now.

Jesse runs a metallic thumb over his lip, cradle his jaw like it’s made of something both precious and fragile. Instantly, the look in Hanzos eyes change. Surges from something reverent and delicate into something dark and hungry.

It sings up Jesse’s spine like lightning – like fiery dragon spirits circling him and demanding his rapt attention.

He distantly wonders if they should slow down, take things slower than this. But it would be out of character for this fragile affection between them. It’s fiery and close already, has been in every lingering touch for months.

“God,” he trails off, unsure where he even wanted the sentence to go. The first joint of his thumb has slipped into Hanzo’s mouth, soft and pliable. It graces faintly over his teeth; metal hardness against the point of a canine.

His breath his heavy against Jesse’s hand, his eyes slightly blown and yet blazing with a focused heat. He’s looking at Jesse like a king starring down a peasant. It makes something squirm in his chest, pride and awe and a breathless, heady desire.

“God-“ he tries again, swallows thickly and this time Hanzo answers with a soft chuckle, hardly more than the slow release of air against his knuckles. A mocking little smile shapes around his lips as they close over his fingers, but his eyes soften further. There’s a grace and a fluidity to the way he moves. The way he softly bops his head, closes a hand around Jesse’s wrist and maneuver his index and middle finger into his mouth. Slowly flattens his tongue against them, the faintest of lordly smiles still traced in his face

Jesse is breathing shallow and quick. He’s utterly transfixes. A distant part of his brain – of his body, his entire nerve system on fire with it – is screaming to make him do something. Regain control and take action somehow.

Hanzo pulls off him, mercifully. A spider thread of spit connects them for a second, then he pulls back and the smile transforms into a full on grin, smug and self-satisfied. He hides it well behind all that vain pride, but Jesse notes how his eyes are still big and afire with heat, lips red and puffy where his breathing rushes over them slightly quicker than normal.

“God, you’re pretty,” he finally manages, though it falls terribly short of everything he wants to communicate. “I’ve wanted to do this for ages.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes, but goes enthusiastically when Jesse gets one hand on his cheek and the other on the back of his neck and pulls him in. Even wraps his arms around him and paws low on back.

“Me too,” he murmurs against his lips.

The kiss is slow, the heat is definitely there, but without urgency. Jesse hums and pushes into him, cradles the back of his skull like he might vaporize at any moment. Hanzo surprises him by pushing back with intent, a soft whimper escapes him that makes Jesse’s chest flutter.

He pulls back, holds him in place and smiles against his lips. Hanzo answers with a needy little huff of air, tries to chase him but there’s a power in Jesses left arm he can struggle against all he likes. Instead Jesse holds him there, their lips hovering barely apart. Hanzo looks up at him, clearly unimpressed by Jesse’s coy little smile.

“What do you want?” Jesse smirks, tilting his head slightly.

He angles for playfully seductive, but there’s a genuine question hidden there as well. They clearly both sense the direction this is heading, and he needs to check if Hanzo is okay with it.

“What do you think?” Hanzo snaps back after a quick beat, clearly going for biting and demanding, but there’s none of the usual burn there. Instead, a needy desperation shines through that clearly shocks the both of them. Hanzo collects himself, tilts his chin up slightly in Jesses hold, tries starring him down over his nose.

Jesse tsks, shakes his head just a bit.

“Come on baby, tell me where you want this to go,” Hanzo’s pupils dilate at the pet name, lightning quick and impulsive before he wills his face back into the picture of kingly grace. Jesse files it away for later, already taken aback and softening at his core at how much Hanzo is letting him know; with every open, honest expression flickering across his face, it feels like he’s letting Jesse in on countless little secrets. He silently promises to never misuse the trust, then open his mouth to further taunt him. Maybe even drop another little pet name, pepper ‘baby’s onto the corners of his mouth till his eyes go glassy and he’ll finally tell Jesse what to do. God knows he’d probably obey his every wish right now.

Instead Hanzo locks their eyes together and derails whatever plans Jesse had.

“It’s not me who just fucked your mouth with my fingers,” Jesse swallows, awestruck and alight with arousal. _Fuck._ “so why don’t you tell me what you want?”

He has the audacity to let his hands roam over his chest as he speaks, one pressing heavily above his heart, the other snaking up, up, up into the sensitive hair at the back of Jesses neck and pull ever so slightly.

Jesse arches into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. He feels as if he’s operating at about 30% brain capacity, the rest has just been fried. Still, he somehow just knows Hanzo’s smiling a predatory little smile before he descends on his neck, mouthing lavish kisses along the strong tendons.

He’s mumbling something into the crook of his neck, Jesse can’t catch the words and he’s unsure if it’s because they’re Japanese or too low to be heard. Instead he latches onto the physicality of it. The slow vibration every word sends through his entire body, the low rumble of Hanzos chest pressed against his.

“Answer the question,” that one is loud and clear. Demanding and laced with a sort of fond mockery. Hanzo pulls back and his fist tightens in Jesses hair, pulls him back almost painfully. One of his prim eyebrows shoots up, beckoning Jesse to answer.

“On your knees,” he’s too far gone to care about how wrecked he sounds, hoarse and out of breath, “want you on your knees, babe.”

Hanzo loses some of that regal control for just a split second, moans into his neck with clear enthusiasm about the idea.

Jesse sees his chance to get his hands properly on him again, knead at his neck, trace the outline of his strong chest. The movements are fleeting and searching, grounding himself against the body next to him. All the pent-up energy resting right below his skin, making him shake slightly; he pours it into the slow pawing against Hanzo’s strong back. Desperation and indecisiveness and an insistent need for everything Hanzo has to give.

“Okay,” Hanzo grumbles, soft and just a tad breathy, against his lips. He steals a last kiss, then lock his hands around Jesses hips with intent and starts sinking to his knees.

Jesse clamps both hands against his cheeks, draws him back up for a last searing kiss. Hanzo goes goodnaturedly, chuckles into his mouth and nuzzles against him gently before he proceeds with lowering himself gracefully to the floor.

The image alone is enough to knock the last air out of Jesse. There’s an intensity to Hanzo in everything he does. It’s burning in his eyes now as he looks up at him, unwavering and focused. It’s almost confrontational, like he’s daring Jesse to look away as he unbuckles his belt and pushes his shirt up and out of the way.

His fingers are calloused and hardened when they brush over his hips. Every fleeting press is a stark reminder of how dangerous Hanzo is, every unshaking little caress holds the countless hours of practice he’s put into killing.

“Like this?” he murmurs against his hip, trace the hipbone with a chain of increasingly openmouthed kisses.

Jesses hands hover hesitantly by his sides. He wants to touch him, ground his fingers in his hair and hold him. But there’s something in Hanzos face that makes him fight against the impulse. A small little glint in his eye, observing and bright. This is a show and a challenge as much at it is a simple act of lust and affection. There’s a display in how Hanzo keeps the eye contact steady and intense, how he smiles faintly and slightly cocky against his hipbone as he closes his fingers over the hem of his pants and pulls down ever so slowly.

Jesses breath catches in his throat when he finally breaks the eye contact to mouth sloppily low on his belly, lick slowly and controlled through the coarse hair there.

“Fuck,” he breathes, dangerously close to bringing the inhumanly strong left hand down over his scalp. _He could take it, wouldn’t budge an inch._ The thought is intoxicating in a way he didn’t expect it to be, “god, fuck.”

Hanzo circles ever lower, inches from freeing his cock, straining against his jeans. Then he pulls back, looks up with the most self-satisfied little smirk, though his eyes are black and burning, lips raw and red.

“Need a little more clarification, Jesse,” he bites his lower lip in a way that seems almost absentminded, like he too is desperate to hold onto some sort of substantial physical sensation. He starts back up kissing his belly, but not as low, letting him think while still letting fire blaze beneath him.

“You’re a fucking tease,” Jesse finally manages, it comes out almost as a breathy little laugh. Hanzo answers with an amused little huff right below his navel.

He looks up, nuzzles into him. “Humor me,” he smiles, then closes a strong hand around his backside and draws him closer in rhythmic little thrusts. Jesse had been working on a smartass retort that might actually get Hanzo to put his mouth on him, but it all drowns in a new overwhelming wave of desire.

“God, I- I- fuck,”

Hanzo hums against him, painfully pleased with himself. He pulls down on Jesses jeans and finally gets them all the way down to his mid-thigh, underwear following promptly. His cock bops obscenely so close to Hanzos soft mouth when he circles lower again and places a series of filthy little kisses at the junction between his thigh and torso, sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth while keeping up the slow pushes against McCree’s back. It’s filthy and maddening and Hanzo is so obviously enjoying himself, knees spread wide and his free hand pressing little circular patterns into his upper thigh.

“Tell me Jesse,” he breathes, burrowing into his groin. Mouth so painfully close to the base of his cock. Jesse whines, low and needy. He shakes his head absentmindedly, open and closes his hand next to Hanzo’s head.

“God, please.”

Hanzo looks up at him, stares through dark lashes and lets his mouth hang slightly open. And it’s too much, Jesse is scrambling and falling apart already. The want gathering hot and insistent low in his belly is overwhelming and suddenly this immense fondness joins it. A careful affection for this utterly beautiful man who’s at his feet, vulnerable and here with him.

His right hand shots out to cradle Hanzo’s jaw. His thumb press over his heated cheek and he sees how Hanzos eyes go slack and soft. There’s a different heat and a need there as great as the one he felt moments before.

“Please,” Jesse breathes, voice broken and breathy.

Hanzo turns his head, places three slow kisses in his palm. “I hear you,” then he lifts his hand from his thigh and press it over Jesse’s hand against his own cheek. He holds him there, nuzzles into the touch. And slowly, he opens his lips wide and sink down over the head of his cock.

He circles it slowly with his tongue, slow and considerate even though small and muffled moans are spilling from him and the arm he has firmly placed against Jesse's back presses more insistently; makes him fuck into his mouth in shallow little thrusts.

Jesse is distantly aware he’s blabbering. Sweet nothings and a steady stream of unfocused expletives. He doesn’t care and he hopes Hanzo doesn’t mind either. It doesn’t seem like it. He’s bopping eagerly on his cock, pressing his hand against his cheek with a gentle desperation that feels both wicked and like something holy when Jesse can feel the press of his own erection from the inside of Hanzos mouth.

Hanzo is looking up at him. His jaw is slack, eyes dark and unfocused with bliss. There’s a trace of adoration in the lines near his eyes and it’s enough to make Jesses heartbeat just a tad faster. He barely notice when his other hand, the mechanical one, takes hold of Hanzo’s dark hair. Holds him steady without pressing, follows the increasingly deep pushes forward as he takes more of him in his mouth.

He both hears and feels Hanzo moan around him when he does something with his tongue against the underside of his cock that makes Jesse tighten his fist in his hair.

“God, fuck, you’re doing so good,” he mutters hoarsely to him, alternates between pulling slightly on his inky hair and running a caressing thumb over his scalp, “so fucking good.”

Hanzo preens at the compliments, a blush spreading rapidly over his cheeks. He pulls of off his cock for just a second, removes the hand holding over Jesses to close it around the base of his dick, mouth his way along the sides ending with a surprisingly gentle, chaste kiss against the tip. He looks up at Jesse when he does it, eyes big and bright and just a little mischievous.

Jesse briefly contemplates counting that one among the numerous murder attempts made against him. It feels a little like one.

Hanzo doesn’t stop his onslaughter, getting his lips around his cock again and bopping with renewed vigor, eyes still locked with Jesses, daring him to look away from how his lips wrap - pink and wet - around him. The raw sensation flooding over Jesses nervous system is making it increasingly hard to not let his eyes roll shut.

Yet he’s pretty sure Hanzo would pull off him with a sarcastic little smile if he dared give him any less than a hundred percent of his undivided attention. It makes liquid fire slosh in his veins. Hanzo is demanding without speaking, unquestioned in his authority even when his orders are silent and implied. Kingly in everything he does.

He runs his restless hands over his cheek, through his hair while the fire builds in his belly, makes his limbs tingly with anticipation. Somewhere along the line he started thrusting his hips of his own volition, Hanzos strong grip simply rests against his ass now while he himself fucks into his mouth with slightly erratic movements. Hanzo adjust to the rhythm effortlessly.

“Fuck, Han,” he sighs and is himself surprised how thin his voice is, how clear it is he’s wavering close to the edge. Hanzo clearly hears it too, for his brows furrow slightly in concentration and he doubles down; increase his pace subtly and swirls his tongue along his cock.

Jesse starts pathetically pawing at his hair, a combined warning and the meekest attempt at pulling him off his cock before the inevitable. Hanzo hums defiantly in response, swallows him down till his nose touch his pubic bone and swallows thickly around him one, two, three times.

“Han, please- oh god,” he babbles before he feels everything inside himself go white hot and searing and he jerks forward, coming with a low grunt and both his thumbs rubbing small patterns into the back of Hanzos skull in what he distantly hopes is a comforting way.

In a way he hopes somehow gets across how his entire world narrows down to where they’re touching and how every nerve seems to be both on fire and in the process of being soothed from a burn. It’s utterly overwhelming and he’s holding on for dear life as his hips push weakly and his legs shake beneath him.

Hanzo takes it all. Moans like he’s the one coming, brows knitting together and jaw going utterly slack around Jesse. He keeps weakly bopping on his cock, mouthing along the veins and caressing his hip with one hand until Jesse shakily pushes him off, sore and sensitive from overstimulation.

Hanzo paws at him, trails kisses along his torso as he pulls him down besides him. Jesse goes willingly, surging forward and into Hanzo’s space.

He’s already freed his own straining cock from his clothes, furiously rubbing his hand over it while the other goes to scratch at the back of Jesses neck, pulling him close. There’s no real kiss there, just their faces pressed close, openmouthed breath mingling while Hanzo whimpers a few broken little moans and Jesse presses praise and encouragement into his skin.

“Come on baby,” he mutters, babbles incoherently into his temple and places heated little kisses into the side of his open mouth, on every inch of skin he can get his lips on, runs his hands up and down his sides, fists them in his black hair, scratches at his scalp; restless and frenzied until Hanzo goes rigid, then slack jawed and mewls low in his throat as he comes over his own hands.

He sits close eyed and blissed out for a couple of seconds. As soon as he seems to return to reality, cracking a slightly unfocused eye open, Jesse descends upon him.

Hanzo chuckles, raspy and light, as Jesse peppers small kisses all over his face. He does a coquettish little bow sitting down.

“Thank you, thank you,” he laughs, and Jesse preens at how rough his voice sounds. He brushes a wayward strand of Hanzos jet black hair out of his face. Looks at him with what might be open adoration, might look closer to stunned humility. Hanzo offers him a weak little smile in return, stretches out a hand then lets it fall, visibly unsure how and where to instigate physical contact after _that_.

Jesse takes mercy on him, draws him into a hug made slightly awkward by how Hanzo is sitting, collapsed with his knees spread wide on the floor. It doesn’t matter, Jesse easily maneuvers him into his lab, plants kisses and shushed praise in his hair. Hanzo laughs again, low and rumbly and utterly content and it warms Jesse all the way to the core.

They sit like that for some time, relaxed and glowing. Jesse has to bite his cheek to hold back several way, way too corny remarks. It’s just tempting, when Hanzo is stretching a strong hand to twirl a lock of his auburn hair around his finger with a gentle dexterity that steels Jesses breath away.

Eventually, they get up and Hanzo laughs and grabs him by the arm, manages to coax him into taking a second shower that night.

It’s only much later, crashed on the bed (pathetichally small for two men as broad as them, but it will have to do for now), that something dawns on Jesse. His eyes must grow comically large in his shock, at least Hanzo raises an eyebrow quizzically.

Instead of answering, he groans and flops onto his back, dramatic when he picks a pillow and buries his face in it.

“What?” Hanzo asks, a small smile dancing in his tone. Jesse groans.

“Genji is gonna kill me.”

Hanzo looks at him with big inquisitive eyes for a second, then he howls with laughter, low and rough and deeply delighted. He shakes his head, his hair spreading like a dark halo behind his head.

“Don’t worry,” he wrestle the pillow away from Jesse, rolls him over till he can sprawl comfortably on his chest, kiss his nose with a smile, “he’s going to die of brotherly disgust long before he gets his hands on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading!
> 
> This is the first explicitly sexual thing I've ever written, and it should just have been a 1.5-2k word thing, but then it grew into this beast ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Please do come yell at me on my tumblr; https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nyresnuger


End file.
